


Dead Inside: In Loving Memory of CrankThatFrank

by Not_The_Underlord_Brendon_Urie



Category: CrankThatFrank
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Anger, Angst, Frank is 'dead', Kidnapping, Other, non-con drugging, probably not a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_The_Underlord_Brendon_Urie/pseuds/Not_The_Underlord_Brendon_Urie
Summary: A scheme that promises to erase the existence of one repressed YouTuber;When our three antagonists join forces, everything that CrankThatFrank's channel once was ceases to exist.It's a race against the clock as our protagonist tries to escape this horrible situation and get his captors arrested.





	1. So Long To All My Friends...

Frank Gioia, known commonly in the Emo community as CrankThatFrank, was sitting down to make a video.   
“Hey, you guys. It’s Frank back here with another video for you guys. In today’s video-” he began, as a glass shattered from the kitchen.   
He got up to see what had caused this.   
He walked into the kitchen, and saw the small shards of glass on the floor.   
He sighed, and went to get a dustpan and broom.   
Before he could clean up the glass, a hand clasped over his mouth, holding a cloth that was presumably drenched in chloroform.   
Frank slipped into unconsciousness, and two figures carried him off, tossing him casually into the back of their van.  
Frank woke up what seemed like hours later.   
His head hurt, and he tried to apply pressure to kill some of the pain; it was a temporary solution.   
He looked around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.   
He had no clue where he was.   
The last thing he remembered was going to clean up the shattered glass in the kitchen, and then blacking out.   
Frank heard two muffled voices, and walked over to the door of the room.   
He pressed his ear against it, and caught a few words.   
“...blue-haired Emo lameass that nobody wants anyway, so what does he see in him?”   
Before Frank could be offended, the doorknob turned underneath his ribcage, and the door opened, knocking him off of his balance, pushing him onto the floor.   
He looked up, and in the doorway, saw the scowling faces of Logan and Jake Paul.   
“What do you delinquents want?” he asked.  
“Just to see your good-for-nothing channel suffer.” Jake said, his pale, stupid face cut with a wicked smirk.  
Frank scowled.  
“I know you two think you're better than everyone, but that doesn't mean you can just kidnap people. Especially if those people are older than you.” Frank said.   
Logan’s cruel cackle cut through the air like a knife.  
“That's real cute, Emo.” he said lightly.   
He suddenly got uncomfortably close to Frank’s face.   
“But we can do whatever the hell we want, and nobody's gonna be stupid enough to stop us.” he whispered darkly.  
Frank scooted back.   
He needed to get out of this situation as soon as the opportunity presented itself to him.  
“Come on, Jake. Let’s leave the little Emo alone for a bit. Maybe he’ll go cry in the corner.” Logan said.  
Jake chuckled, and followed his older brother.  
Frank watched as the door shut behind them, and huffed.  
The sooner he got out, the better.  
Frank felt suddenly tired, but he couldn’t fall asleep; he needed to stay alert.  
The door opened, and Logan walked in.  
“Almost forgot this.” he said, carrying an orange prescription bottle.  
“I’m not taking those. They’re sleeping pills or something.” Frank said bluntly.  
“You are, even if I have to force them down your fucking throat.” Logan replied.  
“Try me.” Frank challenged.  
Logan strode over to Frank.  
Frank scrambled out the door past Logan.  
Frank ran through the hall, trying to think of the best course of action.  
Suddenly, Frank ran into the wall.  
He fell, and put his hand over his nose, which was now bleeding.  
Logan and Jake now loomed over him.  
“Aww, did the little Emo get a nosebleed?” Jake asked patronizingly.  
“Looks like someone needs to learn to stop running away from the people that are trying to help them.” Logan said matter-of-factly.  
Frank looked at the older captor, who now sneered back.  
“Screw off." Frank replied, annoyed.  
Logan extracted the bottle of pills from his pocket.  
He and Jake then pulled Frank off the ground, and held him against the wall.  
Logan unscrewed the lid, and poured three pills into his hand.  
He brought his hand to Frank’s mouth, and forced him to take the pills.   
Jake closed Frank’s mouth, and tilted his head back, forcing him to swallow.  
“There. Was that so hard, Emo?” Logan asked mockingly.  
“Shut up.” Frank said.  
“You might want to be more respectful, or I can guarantee we won’t be so nice in the future.” Logan sneered.  
Frank’s eyes widened.  
“Nice? There’s nothing nice about force-feeding someone drugs!” Frank exclaimed.  
“Calm down, Emo. Those drugs should kick in any moment. Just relax.” Jake said.  
“I’m repressed!” Frank cried, pushing Jake’s arms off of him.  
He then lowered himself to the ground in the Existential Crisis position.  
He began weeping, suddenly overcome with emotion and exhaustion.  
“Come on, Jake. Let’s get him to his room.” Logan said.  
He grabbed Frank’s arms, Jake taking his legs.   
They lifted him off the ground, and carried him to the room they had originally put him in.  
They set him facedown on the bed, and pulled the covers over his now unconscious form.  
They left the room, and Jake locked the door behind him.  
<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>  
Frank awoke what seemed like hours later.  
He looked around, and smiled.  
‘No Logan, no Jake’ he thought.  
He tried to get up, but he couldn't move.  
‘Well, damn’ he told himself.  
Just when it seemed things couldn’t get any worse, the door opened, and Logan walked in.  
‘Just what I need’ Frank thought miserably.  
“Hey, Emo, good news.” Logan began.  
“You’re letting me go?” Frank asked, perking up.  
“No.” Logan said cruelly.  
Frank frowned.  
“Then what’s the good news?” Frank asked.  
“Your weird little Emo subscribers are wondering where you are.” Logan told him.  
“And?” Frank wondered, raising his eyebrow.  
“They won’t need to worry for long. We just posted a new video on your channel.” Logan told him.  
“How? What the hell did you post?” Frank demanded.  
“Calm down. We just posted a simple explanation of why you won’t be on YouTube anymore. In fact, you can watch it for yourself.” Logan retorted.  
He pulled out his phone, and clicked on the new video on Frank’s channel.  
Before the video even started, Frank knew it wouldn’t be good; to prove this point, the video was even titled ‘Goodbye’.  
The video began with a heavy atmosphere.  
Jake and Logan were on the couch, solemn expressions on their faces.  
“You’re probably wondering where Frank is. Well, we’re here to explain.” Logan said.  
“Frank is dead.” Jake said simply.  
“It was all so sudden. We were hanging out with him, when he just froze. All the color drained from his face, and he collapsed.” Logan lied, keeping up a sad facade.  
“He seemed fine, but I guess he wasn’t. It’s going to be hard, having lost Frank. It wouldn’t seem like it, but Logan and I are… were... very close to Frank.” Jake said.  
“Please know that Frank died happy, and that he’s okay… aside from being dead, that is.” Logan said.  
Pictures of Frank played in a slideshow, accompanied by The Ghost of You.  
Frank’s eyes widened.  
“What the hell?! You faked my death?” he exclaimed.  
Logan smiled evilly.  
“Aww, does that upset you, Frankie?” he asked.  
Frank wanted to beat the shit out of him.  
Without thinking, Frank punched Logan right in the eye.  
“You little bitch!” Logan yelled.  
Frank tackled Logan to the ground before he could rebound.  
“Jake! I need help!” Logan yelled.  
Frank slapped the older brother across the face.  
“Now thanks to you and your dumbass little brother, everyone’s going to think I’m dead! What about my family? What about Eva?!” Frank yelled ferociously.  
His heart was beating like crazy.  
Just as Frank was about to strangle Logan, Jake ripped him off of his brother.  
“Get your hands off of me!” Frank yelled.  
Jake had his arms crossed tightly over Frank’s chest, and showed no signs of letting go.  
Logan stood, donning a black eye and bloody nose.  
“I think it’s time we start Phase Two.” he said, scowling at Frank.  
Frank was still struggling to get out of Jake’s grasp.  
“Calm down, or I’ll have no choice but to drug you again.” Jake whispered warningly.  
“Why should I?” Frank asked through gritted teeth.  
“Because we’re much more easy-going than our boss.” Jake told him.  
Frank sighed.  
He stopped thrashing.  
“That’s better.” Jake said.  
“Can you please let go of me, now?” Frank asked in a quiet voice.  
Logan shook his head.  
“Please? I won’t run away, I promise.” Frank said desperately.  
“Just be quiet and take a nap. We won’t give you as big of a dose if you cooperate.” Jake said.  
“No drugs.” Frank cried.  
“I’m sorry, Frankie. We’re gonna have to give you something, seeing as you’ve been behaving badly.” Jake crooned.  
Logan extracted a syringe from his pocket, and walked towards Frank and Jake.  
“You can't do this to me.” Frank said softly.  
Logan's eyes pierced Frank's.  
“No more words out of you. It's happening whether you like it or not.” Logan replied bluntly.  
He stabbed Frank’s exposed vein, and pushed down the plunger, the clear liquid flowing into Frank’s vein.  
Frank whimpered.  
“Shh, just go to sleep. You’re fine.” Jake said softly.  
Frank could feel his eyelids drooping.  
He needed to stay awake.  
He wasn’t going to fall asleep, not now.  
What was Phase Two?  
Thoughts raced through Frank’s mind as he felt himself sway, losing balance.  
Through hazy vision, blurred from the mist of tears, Frank saw the door open, and an exceptionally tall figure enter the room.  
Jake let go of Frank, and he could feel himself fall forward into the third person’s arms.  
They adjusted Frank in their arms, and picked him up.  
“Good job, boys. I’ll take it from here.” was all Frank could make out.  
He grew sleepy, and tried to stay awake.  
He tried to speak, but no words would come out.  
He remained silent as he was carried off, and drifted into an awkward, repressed slumber.


	2. Every One Of Them Met Tragic Ends...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank finds out who the fiend behind his abduction is; unfortunately, he still doesn't know why this happened.

Frank woke up a long while later.  
He had no recollection of what had happened earlier; all he remembered was Logan injecting some sort of drug into his arm, Jake letting him fall forward, and someone catching him.  
He distinctly remembered the phrase ‘I’ll take it from here’, but he didn’t recognize the voice as Logan or Jake’s.  
‘It must have been someone else’ Frank thought.  
Frank looked around the room and was greeted by unfamiliar surroundings.  
“Hello? What's going on here?!” Frank called, lifting his head up.  
He waited for a response; there was only silence.  
“Well if you're gonna kidnap a repressed Emo, don't leave them in silence. They don't want to hear their own thoughts.” Frank muttered.  
Suddenly, the door opened, and the same figure as before walked in.  
“Hello, Frank. Glad to see you're awake.” came a voice.  
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Frank asked, craning his neck to see who the voice belonged to.  
He gasped.  
Marilyn Manson let out a low chuckle.  
“Surprised to be talking to a celebrity?” he asked.  
“Surprised to be talking to the spawn of Satan.” Frank retorted, offering a little smirk.  
Manson growled.  
“I'll leave you to your thoughts until you're ready to be nice.” he said.  
He stalked out of the room, leaving Frank to his little victory.  
‘There he goes again with the whole ‘nice’ thing. Why would a captor expect their captive to be nice to them?’ Frank wondered to himself.  
Manson left the door wide open.  
“Haven't you ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!” Frank called after him.  
Frank sat in silence for a moment or two.  
“This is no fun.” he thought aloud.   
“I should just get up right now and show that guy who he’s messing with.” Frank decided.  
Static suddenly cut through the air.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Frankie Boy.” Manson said suddenly.  
His voice sounded as though it were coming through a speaker.  
“You can hear me?” Frank asked.  
Manson chuckled.  
“Of course I can, kid. I have wiretaps everywhere.” Manson replied.  
“I’m going to play something for you. Tell me when you can hear it.” Manson added.  
Frank listened, but heard nothing.  
“I don’t hear anything.” he said.  
“Don’t worry, you will soon.” Manson replied darkly.  
He continued to play the tone for Frank, until he finally heard it for the first time.  
Dooo.  
Frank shrieked; he had just been G-Noted.  
Manson grinned, playing the note again.  
This went on a few more times.  
“Please stop!” Frank exclaimed.  
“Is this upsetting you, Frankie Boy?” Manson asked.  
“Yes, it is. Please, just stop.” Frank replied, not even fazed by the nickname.  
Manson chuckled deeply.  
“Sorry, buddy, I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” he retorted smoothly.   
“Come on, please just turn it off.” Frank cried desperately.  
“Beggars can’t be choosers…” Manson told him.  
In an act of additional cruelty, Manson played a recording of the G note on a long loop.  
“I’ll come check on you in a while. I have other matters to attend to.” Manson said, turning off the intercom.  
Frank curled up into a ball and cried in agony.  
Manson grinned, and rose to his feet.   
He exited his office, and stalked out of the house, making a short trip to the Pauls’ residence.  
Upon his arrival, Manson got out of his car, and strode up to the front door.   
He knocked once, then opened the door, letting himself in.   
He walked into the living room, where he found Logan and Jake.   
Logan sprung to his feet, and cleared his throat.  
“Hey, boss.” he said. “Can I get you anything?”   
“Just a cup of coffee. I would like to talk to you boys.” Manson replied.  
Logan walked into the kitchen, followed by Manson.  
Jake remained seated, figuring his brother would handle this.  
“You too, Jake.” Manson said, noticing the boy’s reluctance to get up.  
Jake groaned, but complied.  
He ambled into the kitchen, hands stuffed in the pockets of his basketball shorts, the hood of his oversized gray hoodie hanging on his head.  
Manson sat at the kitchen counter, and was soon joined by the two brothers.  
Logan handed him the cup of piping hot coffee.  
He took a sip, not even looking fazed.  
Logan recoiled, his taste buds tingling as he vicariously felt his tongue being burned by the coffee.  
“What? Don’t be such a baby.” Manson said, upon seeing the older Paul’s facial expression.  
“What did you want to talk to us about?” Jake asked.  
“Does the brat know he’s ‘dead’?” Manson asked.  
“Yeah, I showed him the video about ten minutes before you arrived to pick him up.” Logan replied.  
“Good.” Manson smirked.  
“Where is he?” Jake asked.  
“He’s at my house. I left him locked up, playing some apparently triggering note that makes him and people like him cry.” Manson replied, rolling his eyes.  
In his personal opinion, Frank was a crybaby.  
What was it about that note that upset him so much?  
“Anyway, I will be stopping by every now and then. And Logan?” Manson began.  
“What?” Logan asked.  
“Don’t be such a patsy.” Manson added.  
Logan’s face flushed pink, and he looked down.  
“I gotta jet. Thanks for the coffee. See you soon, boys.” Manson said.  
He stood up, headed for the front door, and left.  
As Manson drove back to his house, he thought about how Frank might be doing.   
When Manson returned home, he retreated into his office, and turned on the camera that was set up in Frank’s room.   
He was not surprised to see that Frank had not moved.  
He turned on the microphone, and spoke into it.  
“How are you doing, Frank?” he asked.  
Frank said nothing.  
“Frank, you can speak. I won’t hold it against you.” Manson told him.  
Frank remained silent, except for the sad sigh that escaped his lips.  
“If you would like to talk face to face, I will be there shortly.” Manson said.  
“Fine.” Frank muttered.  
“Okay. I’ll be in soon.” Manson responded.   
He cut the video and audio, and made his way down the hall.  
Upon approaching Frank’s door, he rapped on it thrice, and opened it, crossing over the threshold.  
Frank looked up, and glared at Manson.  
“What’s on your mind?” Manson inquired.  
“I want to know why you kidnapped me, and why you faked my death.” Frank replied.  
Manson walked closer to him.  
“I can’t tell you that just yet.” Manson stated calmly.  
“Why not?” Frank asked.  
“You’re not ready to know the truth yet, Frankie.” Manson told him.  
“I want to go home.” Frank sniffled, looking down.  
At this point, Manson sat down next to Frank.  
“It’s not so bad being here with me, Frank. You’ll get used to it, kiddo. Just try and look on the bright side.” Manson said.  
“And what would that be?” Frank asked softly.  
“You can catch up on all the sleep you missed while you were a public figure.” Manson told him.  
“Huh?” Frank asked, puzzled.  
In the next moment, Manson injected Frank with a sedative, covering the boy’s mouth with his hand.  
Frank struggled, slashing at Manson’s arm with his nails, scratching the man’s arm.  
As the sedative kicked in, Frank found it harder to fight.  
“That’s it, Frankie. Go to sleep.” Manson said in a soothing tone.  
With one last look at Manson, Frank slipped into unconsciousness, and fell back into the man’s other arm.  
Manson let out a low chuckle, and laid Frank down.  
He stood, and stalked out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.   
As soon as Frank learned he wouldn’t be getting out of there anytime soon, he would be much happier; Manson could guarantee it.


End file.
